


Hesitation Kills

by cilceon



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-13
Updated: 2020-05-13
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:48:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24157642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cilceon/pseuds/cilceon
Summary: The dog besides Wanderer lowered into a growl, which was never a good sign. And it was an even worse sign whenever he growled looking towards the sky   towards the roof of a building, as he was now.A sniper. She could deal with that. Provided that she saw them before they saw her. Wanderer ducked behind a building, pulled out Tinker Tom Special, and began combing the top of the building Dogmeat was staring at. The sun was being to rise which meant that after she got rid of this guy, she’d make it back to HQ with enough time for Carrington to wake up and be his normal grumpy instead of his I-just-woke-up pissed.Dogmeat growled again as she found the target through her scope. A scavenger, probably. She would’ve thought he was just watching the view until he pulled out a rifle of his own.Did she really need to do this? He looks so young, maybe he was just taking out a raider or a stray mutant hound. Better safe than dead, Wander. She could practically hear Deacon’s voice chiding in her head with how many times he had repeated similar lines at her. But still, Wanderer wasn’t used to just killing someone because they might be a threat.
Comments: 5
Kudos: 20





	Hesitation Kills

**Author's Note:**

> PLEASE READ  
> hey there! i hated this story so i rewrote a better version thats twice as long with a better closing! please check it out [links right here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27343177) this version is only up for archival purposes

The dog besides Wanderer lowered into a growl, which was never a good sign. And it was an even worse sign whenever he growled looking towards the sky towards the roof of a building, as he was now.

A sniper. She could deal with that. Provided that she saw them before they saw her. Wanderer ducked behind a building, pulled out Tinker Tom Special, and began combing the top of the building Dogmeat was staring at. The sun was being to rise which meant that after she got rid of this guy, she’d make it back to HQ with enough time for Carrington to wake up and be his normal grumpy instead of his I-just-woke-up pissed.

Dogmeat growled again as she found the target through her scope. A scavenger, probably. She would’ve thought he was just watching the view until he pulled out a rifle of his own.  
Did she really need to do this? He looks so young, maybe he was just taking out a raider or a stray mutant hound. Better safe than dead, Wander. She could practically hear Deacon’s voice chiding in her head with how many times he had repeated similar lines at her. But still, Wanderer wasn’t used to just killing someone because they might be a threat.

The sun glinted off the street sign across from her, blinding her for a moment. Church St.

Her back stiffened, the grip on her gun tightening. The scaver was aiming directly at Old North Church. But still, Wanderer heisted.

The man fired; her stomach dropped. Wanderer could see a smile spreading on his face through her sight, it seemed as if all his teeth were showing, well they would be if he had all of them. It was a smile that she only ever saw on someone right after they killed another. He had enjoyed it, suddenly the smile dropped. Whoever he hit was still alive. Dogmeat growled again. She took the shot, removing the scavenger’s head in the process. 

The feeling of dread didn’t leave her if anything it was growing. There was no way it was one of her own. Runners didn’t take the front door; Glory should still be at Griswold and Deacon was too careful.  
“Run to them, Dogmeat.” He barked in response as he took off, her close behind. Dogmeat was fast, and though he couldn’t help whoever it was at least when they saw him, they’d know she wasn’t far behind. That help wasn’t far behind. They weren’t alone.

Wanderer heard a howl not 20 seconds later. Not a good sign, she ran faster. Rounding the corner to the front of the church, Wanderer was met with a familiar blue jacket hooked on the ledge of the Paul Revere statue, a newsboy cap sitting on top. Below it was a crumpled mass leaning against the base, his white undershirt was growing more and more red. Drummer Boy.  
“Drummer!” Her knees dug into the concrete above the man. “Shit, Drummer.”

“H-hey Wands. Fancy seeing you all the way out here.” Was he always this pale?

She pressed a hand to the hole on his shoulder in an attempt slow the bleeding, the other cupping the side of his jaw gently. “You’re gonna be okay Drummer.” 

Drummer Boy smiled. “Never been so happy to see this mut before.” Dogmeat puffed out some air and then licked his hand.

“I ah, I heard a second shot.” He continued, taking breathes between each word, “Did, did you get ‘em?” His eyes moved from the dog to the woman kneeling in front of him. They were focused, thank god they were focused. 

“I shouldn’t have hesitated. I’m so sorry Drum, I didn’t know it was you.”

“It’s s’allright. Ya’ got ‘em before they could finish me off. That’s the important bit.” He patted Dogmeat softly on the head.

“Do you think you can stand?” Wanderer lifted her hand slowly to look at the wound, she couldn’t tell if the blood was slowing or speeding up. “We gotta get you down to Carrington.”  
“Ah man he’s sure to be pissed if I wake him up with this.”

Wanderer got his good arm slung over her shoulder as she helped him up. “Carrington? Upset about being woken up? That could never happen.” 

“Man, you’ve been spending too much time with Deacon, Wanderer. His shitty sarcasm is rubbing off on you.”

Deacon wouldn’t have let this happen.

“I’ll have you know; I’ve been like this since way before Dee was even born.” 

He winced as they shuffled over the threshold of the building, with Dogmeat running ahead. “I dunno if there’s any ferals on the ground floor, Dogmeat-"

“He’ll handle them if there’s any. Don’t worry. The stairs are gonna be a bitch, let me know if I’m going too fast.” 

His grip on her tightened slightly. “I’ll be alright Wands.”

It took longer than either of them would’ve liked but when they got to the door leading to HQ, Drummer Boy stopped her from turning the handle. “Thanks for coming when you did. I really mean it, Wanderer. I wouldn’t be here anymore if you weren’t.”

“You wouldn’t be in this situation if I were faster, Drum. Come on, we gotta get you to Carrington.”

He let out a shaky sign as she opened the door and they hobbled through. “I’m never gonna hear the end of this.”  
Dogmeat ran ahead to his usual spot by Tom’s bed.

“Good.” Wanderer raised her voice now so the occupants of the crypt below could hear her, “Someone please tell me Carrington’s awake.” Her voice cracked slightly, and she swore she could feel the speed in which Desdemona and Deacon’s heads snapped up from the central cistern-turned table. 

The verbal response came from her left. “Oh, good what trouble have you gotten yourself into today?”

“It’s not her, this time.” Drummer Boy mumbled sheepishly as they stepped into the room. “Sorry to disappoint.” 

“What happened?” Three voices said in tandem. Tossing a rag aside, Carrington flashed a look of concerned their way as he began to make space for the man in his makeshift operating room. Deacon was on the other side of Drummer Boy before he had finished talking, helping Wanderer set him down on the gurney. 

Desdemona was there a moment later, her hand coming to rest on his non-injured shoulder. “Are you alright, Drummer Boy.” Her voice was soft in the way she remembered it being when she talked about her baby the first time they had met.

“Yeah, yeah I’m alright. The bullets still stuck in me I think, Doc. Sorry” His eyes were on the ground in front of him now. Drummer Boy looked so young in that moment, younger than Wanderer thought his would-be murderer was.

“Don’t be sorry, be careful.” Carrington’s voice was gentler too. “The three of you to step back, please. I need space to work.”

They moved back, Wanderer the furthest. Deacon leaned against the pillar opposite her with his arms folded, not taking his eyes off their friend. 

Desdemona’s brow furrowed in sympathy as Carrington helped Drummer Boy get his shirt off. There was little evidence left to say it was ever white in the first place. “Drummer,” She began, “What happened.”

Drummer was still looking at the ground, both hands gripping the edge of the bed. “I wanted to see the sunrise, Des.” His voice was small.

Lips pursed, she nodded, signaling him to continue. Carrington moved towards the wound with a pair of tweezers and a flashlight.

“I ah, I wanted to see the sunrise.” He repeated. “There was a sniper on some rooftop I didn’t see. I mean I looked; I just didn’t see ‘em. Shoulda left my jacket on, ballistic weave would have pinged it right off but ah-"

Carrington began digging for the shrapnel of the bullet, his frown growing. “This was a hollowpoint bullet Drummer, it would’ve gone through your coat.”

Drummer Boy’s gaze on the floor saddened for a moment before he looked up. “Well at least there’s no hole in it. Be a real shame if there was a hole in my favorite jacket.” He glanced around, realizing the piece of clothing was still topside. “Wander, I hate to ask but could you -“ Drummer Boy yelped as Carrington continued his search. Desdemona moved back closer to him, her hand returning to his shoulder. 

Carrington handed her the flashlight; without hesitation she took it. How often had these two done this with the others?

“Don’t sweat it Drum, I’ll go get it and your hat.” Wanderer turned towards the hallway as he let out a hiss.

“Oh man, I didn’t realize it wasn’t on.”

“That would be because you’re going through shock Drummer. Please stop moving.” Carrington sniped as he switched to a different tool.

“Wanderer,” Desdemona called after her, “Is the threat taken care of?”

Drummer Boy responded in her place with a short, slightly pained laugh. “Taken care of? I saw the asshole’s head fly to heaven from my view on the ground. Oh, he’s taken care of.”

She nodded when Desdemona looked at her for confirmation before turning around.

Wanderer hadn’t realized she was shaking, hands so tightly in fists at her side she was sure the bitten down edges of her nails had broken the skin. With every step she took she could see drops of red on the floor, the pools growing larger as she reached the final set of stairs. When she touched the front door of the church to open it, she froze.

Her hands were covered in drying blood. Drummer’s blood. She could only see bits of the gold of her wedding ring. Why was there always so much blood?

If she didn’t fucking hesitate this wouldn’t have happened. If she were faster, Drummer wouldn’t be hurting right now. If she more perceptive she would’ve realized the church was where the scaver was aiming towards. If Nate were in her place, he wouldn’t have let this happen. God if she would’ve just…

“This isn’t your fault Wander.” Deacon was behind her. Leaning against the wall next to the hole leading to the main section of the church, his arms crossed in the way they were downstairs.

She hadn’t noticed him behind her on the way up.

“You probably were trying to figure out what the guy was aiming at, right?” Wanted to make sure he was actually a danger before you took action.”

She didn’t take her eyes off her hands. “I could’ve gotten Drummer Boy killed, Deacon.” Her voice was shaking. She hated it when her voice shook. God, her eyes were starting to water.

Deacon stepped towards her. The cloth that Carrington threw aside was in his hands, now darkened with water. “But ‘cha didn’t. You took care of the problem and now Drum gets a cool scar to show off and hit on the ladies with.” Gently he took her right hand into his left, he began cleaning it off. “He’s not mad at you pal. Hell, he’ll probably be telling everyone about it every time he gets any liquor inside him.” He had the ghost of a smile on. “Ya’ know, just between you and me, Drummer is the lightest lightweight in the Commonwealth. Remind me to tell you about the last time Glory got him and me out to Goodneighbor ‘cause that’s a damn fun story. Oh, but make sure to ask when he’s in earshot. I want to see his cheeks and ears turn pink again. Man Wander, I didn’t know someone could blush that brightly till Drum came along.” He flipped her hand back and forth a few times until he was satisfied all the blood was gone. 

Deacon let go of Wanderer’s hand and she let it fall to her side. He held out his palm expectantly, waiting for her other. She was fully crying now. “Deacon I, I coulda gotten him killed.”

He grabbed her left hand. Not wanting to wait any longer or maybe just for her to stop talking, she couldn’t tell. 

His voice was serious in a way she hadn’t heard before, she could feel his eyes looking at her through his glasses. “But you didn’t. He’s going to be okay. Everything is going to be okay. I promise. Please don’t cry, Char. Everything’s okay.”

Char. Hancock called her that, so did Preston and Sturges. Nick, sometimes. But never Deacon. If they were somewhere not Railroad affiliated, he called her Boss or Pal, and occasionally if she was lucky, she got a Charlie. If he was pretending to be a Minutemen, it was General Hale or just General. This was the first time Char happened though.

The tears were slowing, she smiled. “Do you think Drummer would actually go up to a girl and talk to her?”

Deacon dabbed at her ring finger with the cloth. “That’s actually a part of the of the Drunk Drummer story. Seriously the pinkest thing I’ve ever seen. The man gets one watered down beer in him and he thinks he’s invincible. If you have him some of the good stuff though? He’d be convinced he could take down a deathclaw and Glory would let him try. Course she’d be there to actually take the beast out. That woman is absolutely terrifying. I’d put money down on her being able to take a dozen deathclaws out by herself in a matter of minutes.” He finished with her hand and moved up to her pip-boy with the cleanest part of the rag, his free hand still holding hers. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen Glory wasted though, I wonder how long that would take, we should totally do a test on that, I could add it to my research notes for my upcoming best seller, ‘ 101 Easiest Ways to get Glory to Want to Kill Me’. I’ll give you a sneak peek, number one through thirty-four involve just being in the same room as her.”

Deacon continued like that, saying whatever thought popped into his head and Wanderer let him. He did that often when she was sad. They had both been on separate jobs for over two weeks, longer than they’d usually go apart. She had missed him. She had almost swung by HQ several times just to make sure he was alright.

Finally satisfied with his work, Deacon put his hand on her shoulder. “You alright, pal?”

“Yeah, I’m alright. Thanks Dee.” She looked out the window over her shoulder, at the blue blur of Drummer Boy’s jacket in the corner of one of the frosted panes. The sun was fully up now. “We should get Drum’s stuff and head back down. I don’t want anybody to get worried.”

“Always a people pleaser.” He shook his head with an exaggerated sigh.

Wanderer hit him playfully on the arm as she turned the handle of the door and walked out of it, Deacon, of course, close behind.


End file.
